Shameful Exhilaration
by KadenKryptonite
Summary: Pompous Pep. Danny needs to keep secrets from everyone. Why? People would be disturbed if they knew the truth. Who he was, why he fights. If only his enemy wasn't the one that made him feel so alive.


_Ah, here. Enjoy this Pompous Pep drabble I was working on. This one really focuses on Danny's mind set; I'm taking the time to develop their relationship. They are _enemies_ after all. It's not going to be, "I love you." Right off the bat, at least. ;]_

_Well, anyway. Enjoy. I will write more drabbles, and possibly upload them as different stories. For the time being, it'd be more likely of these drabbles ending up on my dA account under the name, TransparentlyHere._

_[This is set before the third season, meaning basically all those episodes never happened, so there won't be spoilers for those, but it's possible there will be for any and all episodes before that.]_

He feels the need to keep his powers a secret.

It's been two years since Daniel Fenton scrambled his molecules in the Ghost Portal his parents designed; likewise it's been two years since he woke up with ghost DNA, the same ghost DNA that gave him those powers.

Only a select few knew of his secret identity of Danny Phantom, hero of Amity Park. Those few being Sam and Tucker-his best friends, and more recently his smart older sister, Jazz- who figured it out on her own.

To the rest of Amity Park, he's just-

"Fenton!" His teacher, Mr. Lancer exclaimed, lowering his hand from the board where he was directing the class to look. "Am I boring you?" He narrowed his eyes in distaste, crossing his arms over his chest.

Danny lifted his head from where it was rested on his desk, subtly wiping drool off his chin. "Honestly? Yeah, you are." He received a few snickers from other students who thought the same of Lancer's lesson. Tucker shot him a look, sparing a few seconds to look up from his newest PDA he had concealed under the desk.

Lancer briefly flushed red in anger. "Then you can stay after class to be bored for just a little longer." He slammed a book down on his desk and continued his lesson which went by much more slowly now that it couldn't sleep it away.

Eventually the bell did ring, signaling their release from the jailhouse. Kids were shoveling notebooks away and grabbing their bags, pushing their way out the door. Most to go home, others, like the jocks and the cheerleaders to go to their practice. Sam and Tucker made their way over to Danny once the bell-rush died down a bit.

"Another detention again, Danny?" Tucker asked, placing his PDA gently into his bag. He treated his technology better than most parents treated their children; no one could argue that.

Sam gave him a disapproving look. "Your grades have been slipping. Maybe you should try to pay attention in class, even if it is the dullest thing we have to look forward to."

"Sorry guys," Danny amended. "It's hard to get enough sleep as it is," he lowered his voice, "with ghost hunting and everything. I finish one round of patrolling and the next big bad steps up wanting to take a hit at the ghost boy. What's the worst Lancer can do? Make me bang out erasers?" Danny quirked, putting his papers in his bag.

"Actually, I was thinking desks this time." Danny spun to see Lancer standing behind him, holding a rag and a spray bottle full of cleaning fluid Danny was well acquainted with. Sam shot him a pity look as Tucker rushed both of them out of the room. They felt no obligation to stay and help as they've had their fair share of Fenton-Phantom clean-up over the years.

"Good luck!" Sam called as Tucker dragged her out the door.

Mr. Lancer shoved the cleaning supplies towards the teenager who not so eagerly took them into his hands, a chill coming over him, probably because of the school's poor insulation. "You can start with your drool covered seat and continue until all the desks in this room sparkle." Lancer spat out and took a seat at his desk, looking over some papers that needed grading.

Danny looked across the room at the desks covered in distasteful scribbles, stains, and sticky substances that he had no desire to identify and sighed as he got set to work.

Spray. Scrub.

Spray. Scrub.

And fifteen minutes later, half the desks sparkled. Danny moved on to the next desk, glancing back at Lancer who was now completely immersed in something on the internet; knowing Lancer, it most likely wasn't anything interesting, Danny decided returning to the scrubbing, more force packed into each thrust of the rag.

He squirt the nozzle once more and gasped as his ghost sense leaked out of his mouth simultaneously.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Fenton?" Lancer asked looking up from the computer screen.

Daniel looked from the classrooms windows to the door. "Yeah, actually," he began gripping his stomach in mock pain, "I'm not feeling very well. I gotta hit the bathroom!" He called out as he stormed out of the classroom.

"_Count of Monte Cristo_!" Lancer jumped up from his chair and moved over to where Danny had left off cleaning. Gathering up the supplies, he returned them to their appropriate drawer. His eyes drifted over to the window, he noticed the sky had taken on an eerie overcast glow- a common appearance for Amity Park. Mr. Lancer's gaze traveled to the door the boy had just charged out of. "If only he shared that enthusiasm for his school work," he muttered, returning to his seat.

Danny had charged down the hallways, pushing the door open to the men's bathroom. No one was there, but a force of habit sent him rushing into a stall, slamming the door shut. "Going ghost!" he called out in a diluted tone, another habit of his.

He felt a rush of exhilaration as the white light encircled him, sliding down his body as he shifted from average Danny Fenton to the infamous Phantom. Phasing through the stall, he rushed out of the small filthy washroom, stopping only momentarily to take in his reflection. Almost expecting to see the familiar sight of black hair and blue eyes, the snow-white hair and glowing green eyes filled him with anticipation. A grin shifted its way onto his face as he took to the air and flew through the school.

Floating outside in the school yard, his wispy tail solidified into black-clothed legs and white boots. He whipped his head around looking for the ghost that triggered his ghost sense.

"I am the Box Ghost!" a well-known voice rang out.

Danny chuckled. "Let me guess? i_Beware/i_!"

"No fair, that's supposed to be my line." the Box Ghost muttered, hovering no more than five feet away from him. "No matter! Tremble before my cardboard manifestations of i_doom/i_!"

The ghost boy chuckled again. "Well, this is my line." Danny called out, blasting the other ghost's feet with a green ectoplasmic ray, sending him skidding backwards.

The Box Ghost wasn't a challenge for Danny; he never really had been, but the wonderful thing about him was that he never knew when to give up which provided Danny with some entertainment and at the most- target practice.

After two years, ghosts he once found threatening were now just distractions for his everyday life. Alternating between striking the ghost himself and blasting boxes away from him, Danny practiced his form, inevitably if not intentionally. Really as one might predict, the Box Ghost gave up for the day; surely, he'll be back within the week.

Daniel floated to the ground, looking for a place to turn back. Changing in front of his classroom's windows wasn't the best way for his secret to remain as such, but before he could put too much thought into it. Two sharp claps brought his attention to another ghost.

He smirked to himself. In front of him, floating under the shadows of the tree was the one ghost he could be assured a challenge from. The ghost who was half-human just as he was.

"My dear boy," Vlad began only to be interrupted by Danny right off the bat.

"Plasmius." Danny said in a form of greeting, jumping off the ground charging straight at the older man with twenty years of experience over his head.

Vlad easily side-stepped his attack, "Really, now are you that impatient Daniel?" The man flippantly shot a beam of pink ectoplasm at Danny- a move which was obviously meant to tease the younger hybrid.

"Are you really that much of a fruit loop, Vlad?" Danny shot back, sliding backwards to leave a safe distance between the two men.

Plasmius smirked, briefly flashing his fangs he possessed in this form. "Very well. If it's a fight you want," Plasmius' form doubled, "then it's a fight you'll get." The two echoed each other.

Two clones. An unimpressive feat. Danny himself could make four now, Vlad's preferred amount. Although, Daniel knew Vlad could make double that amount. He was holding back, and Danny had no intention of doing the same. Common sense had never been his strong point.

A well aimed kick directed at his opponent's chest sent a hasty Danny flying through the air as Vlad turned intangible to avoid it. A black gloved hand locked around his ankle.

Danny cursed himself; he'd forgotten about the clone.

The second Plasmius flipped him over his shoulder, sending him plummeting to the ground. Danny barely had enough time to stop himself from colliding with the ground.

Shooting back up to Plasmius' height, the two- three including the double- remained locked in a stare, both hybrids judging the other, waiting for an indication of what the opponent was going to do next, a moment of weakness.

Witty banter forgotten, Phantom feinted to the right towards the original Vlad while twisting to attack the clone. Two years of observing the boy, his tactics were familiar to Plasmius who, the instant Danny moved towards the clone, snapped it back into himself.

Daniel twisted in time to receive a powerful kick from his enemy. A kick which with no time to prepare for, sent him barreling into a tree. While such a blow was meaningless to Phantom, Danny knew he was going to experience all sorts of pain the next day.

Taking the metaphorical gloves off, Danny unleashed a numerous amount of green ectoplasmic blasts although they were easily blocked by Plasmius' barrier he moved to reflect the beams.

Once again, the two remained motionless, watching each other. Two years later, they knew each other's ghost forms as they did their own from the amount of observation during their battles.

"What's wrong, Daniel?" Plasmius began in a teasing snarky tone. "I still have twenty years over you. How long have you had your powers? Two. I am superior." He taunted the younger boy, although inside Vlad was frightened and awed by how far the boy had grown over those two meager years.

_I am not weak. _Danny thought to himself and ended his waiting game.

Every kick thrown, every fist dodged.

Every beam of energy released, every sharp turn to avoid being blasted.

Every time he flipped from being hit by an ectoplasmic ray, he felt himself growing more alert.

It was power, but power's not enough when you can't control it.

Two discs of pink energy colliding with Danny's chest, one right after the other sent him collapsing to the ground. Moments spared to regain the breath he lost from the impacts. Rising to his feet not quite ready to give up, his eyes shot up to meet Plasmius' red ones.

That smug look combined with his crossed arms. The fight was over; Danny had lost.

With a smirk, Vlad teleported himself away.

Returning to being Danny Fenton, Danny ran a hand threw his black overgrown mess of a hair. He lost, but the adrenaline still going strong through his veins denied him the opportunity to lament.

Was it wrong for him to feel at peace with his ghost half? However unintentionally, Daniel had long since embraced being Phantom. He was a ghost just as much as he was a human, something which he shared with Vlad.

Fenton was a nobody. An average, outcast loser. Phantom was a somebody. A special, powerful hero. Phantom had power. He had the abilities, the natural skill. Danny only had to hone those abilities; Phantom gave him the opportunity to be something greater, a challenge for him to master.

Vlad did the same in a way. He was stronger than Danny; he has more experience. As Danny's superior, he provided something Danny couldn't get in almost any other ghost. The challenge. That's why Daniel always looked forward to Vlad's visits, even if he was unaware of the older halfa's motives.

He enjoyed the thrill of the fight. When he was younger, he often wished his powers away; now he knows, he could never willingly part with them. The danger, the life-threatening aspects, the thrill- he enjoyed all of it.

Was he a masochist? No, he didn't think so.

Danny stuck his hands in his pockets and began walking home. The sun was going down, and his parents would be worried.

Did he know he shouldn't feel this way? Yes, but he didn't really care; it was something he kept only to himself, afraid of how his friends and sister would react kept it firmly imbedded in himself.

He didn't want anyone to be able to separate him from Phantom.

Yeah, he feels the need to keep his powers a secret.


End file.
